


Handsome Devil, Aren't I?

by Just_Another_Madman



Series: Handsome Devil [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Madman/pseuds/Just_Another_Madman
Summary: A tiefling, down on his luck, tries to make his way in the world through whatever means he sees fit.A journey of morals, philosophy, socializing and struggle await.





	Handsome Devil, Aren't I?

 

** Handsome Devil, Aren’t I? **

_It wasn’t a bad day to wear the suit, after all._ Ty’bault thought to himself as he woke up in the bed and peered out his room’s small window. He stretched himself lazily, straining his worn muscles of whatever sleep still tried to stiffen his movement. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and according to the trees, the breeze calm but constant. But it was morning nonetheless, and that meant taking care of a few things.

 _Get up, clean up, get dressed, get breakfast, and hit the town. Preferably in that order. Gotta secure a room for a night, as usual. No guarantee the innkeeper will say I can stay the night again, after all. Not like she’ll do it for free like the past few days, though it **is** important to hope for some good things in the morning._ Speaking of which, the innkeeper was kind enough to set the pail and rag just inside the doorway like he had asked. He smiled briefly, scratching his head of the dandruff that had stayed upon his head throughout the night. _How nice of her to remember._

He got up, walked across the room, and dragged the pail over to the corner of the room with a towel rested under the chair, and he began to ponder as he bathed himself.

_It was something to pride oneself in, smelling as good as you look. It always garnered attention; and regardless of the attention it got, it was better than no attention at all. What’s that phrase? ‘Even bad press is good press for someone’, as the tabloids say. And having an alluring odor to go with an intoxicating charm, a sweet personality and ruggedly handsome looks was a knockout combo, at least around these parts. The nobles have gotten used to such odors, but not this merchant town. Now, where were those nice odor rocks hiding…there’s a collection for a reason._

He reached around for some of the rocks he used to scrape off the excess crimson flakes of skin and replace them with a touch of glitter and grit. Finding them after a short moment, he got to work.

_It’s a little odd, honestly. Generally, the folks around these parts assume that the tailoring and odor is indicative of a noble birth. How funny that I’m desperately trying to get married for an income and a roof over my head. Doesn’t matter who or what, so long as the needs are met. But that takes charm, charm takes practice, and practice takes energy. Which, now that I’ve finished washing and dressing, will hopefully come from breakfast. Let’s hope breakfast is still complementary._

He got dressed, slowly, deliberately, not wanting to fray a single stitch from being too anxious and moving too quickly. The process to get on the many layers of fabric took as long as the bath, normally. But, to Ty’bault, it seemed worth it.

As he sauntered down the stairs, taking in the weight and comfort of his favorite but only suit, Ty’Bault thought to himself a quote he learned from the performing crew he learned under for a time. _‘Life is but a stage, and we are but actors; everyone plays their roles.’_ He chuckled to himself as he rounded the bend _‘A shame my role is to be the charming devil. Tiefling. Whatever, people seem to think they’re the same thing for some reason. ‘It’s like saying a horse is like a centaur!’_ as his more defensive relatives used to say; _but the ‘normal’ folk don’t give a shit about that._

He stepped from the threshold of the stairs onto the final step, turned a tad and strode a few steps to enter the bar floor, and greeted the apparently surly innkeeper.

“Morning, Madame De Voff.” Ty’bault said to the innkeeper, attempting to have his voice flutter with copious amounts of fluff and affection.

The innkeeper briefly glanced at Ty’bault, polishing glasses half-mindedly.

“Morning, Ty’Bault.” She replied, with a special note of cynically optimistic gruff as she resumed polishing the glasses at the counter; with more than a little roughness.

He thought upon her reaction for a moment, thinking on what exactly she might be upset about. _It was definitely more than the previous few days, so there ought to be something causing her foul mood. Maybe her scars were acting up this morning; she couldn’t even be asked to look at me with her one good eye when she replied. But that couldn’t possibly be it, at least not entirely. I know **that** by this point. _

He rested his elbows upon the recently-cleaned counter, hands beneath his chin as he playfully asked “What’s wrong, Sharon?”

She looked at him coldly, as if he had something to do with it, whatever **it** happened to be. _Probably not good. Probably something to do with that new Bridget girl who was going to be a server here. Speaking of which, she was nowhere to be seen this morning. Odd, it’s her shift. I wonder what she’s up to._

____________________________

 

 _Ah, shit,_ Sharon De Voff groaned to herself internally as she cleaned the bar of any sticky residue that any drinks or plates may have left behind. _Ty’bault is up. He already has his pail and rag, so it’ll get me a few more minutes without his sickly sweet voice._ She grimaced as she prepared herself for what would no doubt be a nettling encounter as he asked for breakfast. _He’d probably want to small chat, but it was better to hope for some good things this morning._

_It really didn’t help that that new waitress, what’s her name, Bridget? Was probably busy in the fields with some farmer’s kid. Kids? Who the hell knows nowadays? Maybe it was Farmer John’s kids from yesterday? What were their names…David? Damien? Both? They both seemed to have some fancy for her yesterday. **Shit** , he’s coming down the stairs. Why’s he so slow about it? Hopefully it’s not a deliberate act, as that will probably annoy people more than impress. And the gods know how much he wants to impress. _

“Gooood morning, Madame De Voff” she heard him say in that _disgustingly_ sincere sounding voice that could only be said by someone of such a caliber.

“Morning, Ty’bault.” she said back, trying to give him a good taste for her disdain of him and his gaudy, tacky attire.

She looked down at a glass that probably needed some polishing, and noticed out of the corner of her one good eye that he had rested himself upon the counter.

_Shit, he got curious instead of taking the damn hint. Of course._

“What’s wrong, Sharon?” he asked, with the overly concerned tone.

 ** _Gods_** _how I want to break his face. If only he’d do something to warrant it._

_________________

 

Before she could respond, in came Bridget, her hair a ruffle, her dress a tussle, with some stickers and plant stalks sticking out of her natural red curls. She smiled as she entered, greeting the customers for the morning, and told Sharon she’d need a minute to clean up but that she’d be able to work in a moment.

Sharon smiled back at her, and told her to take her time before looking over at the smug son of a bitch that had turned to look at Bridget as she passed.

 _“Damn it,”_ Sharon thought to herself. _“He has the goddamn grin on.”_

Ty’bault smiled for a moment, surprised and enthralled as he examined the soon-to-be apologetic girl. He saw her as she entered and could put two and two together to get the image of what had occurred just before she entered. He turned to Sharon, about to say something when he was interrupted by Sharon picked up a bottle from behind the counter and placed it in front of him before leaning closely and intimidatingly growling at him. “Not. A. Word.” She paused, before finishing with a tone of reluctance. “And you’ll get to stay another night.” His signature wry grin broke across his face as he opened and sipped at his new drink, not saying a word anytime soon. She polished some glasses before giving the bar a scan, and then going into the kitchen to begin giving instructions and a lecture to Bridget.

 _Have a place for the night, at least._ Ty’bault clenched his unoccupied hands pensively, thinking of how to make the most of this minor fortune. _No bets on anything else lasting yet._ Ty’bault realized he had to start prospecting for yet another spot for the nights to come. He finished his drink, winked at Sharon one last time before walking out into the town. He wouldn’t mention what he witnessed and had assumed, but if word got out anyways it wasn’t his problem. Both he and Sharon knew he wouldn’t break his word, even if it meant sleeping on the streets for a night.

 _The question was….what to go for now?_ _Or should I say whom?_ He figured he could try going uptown to the fancier sections of town and hope that one of the lingering maidens were willing to have a little company for the night. _There was also the farmer girls on the other side of town, though that would be kept as a last option, as barns weren’t exactly desirable places to sleep. There was also the merchant women, but chances are their daughters were already engaged or promised to some men._ Even though he was desperate, it was better to avoid getting into the drama of partners cheating on one another. It always ended badly, as the husband would get mad at him for seducing the mistress, and the mistress would just get mad at **him** for getting **caught**.

 _All things considered, it would be better to go uptown and hope for a maiden traveling through that wouldn’t mind a little adventure._ Ty’bault fondled his worn playing cards and dice that were resting comfortably within his suit jacket, remembering the good times he’d seen.  If he remembered right, there was a saloon that he could gamble at for a bit and attract news or attention. He had to remind himself he had a hard limit, though.

 _Can’t really afford to dip any deeper, even if the chance presents itself. Otherwise it’ll be hard to even get food without losing face._ Something nagged at the back of Ty’bault’s mind as he started walking over to the saloon in his trusty suit, but it wouldn’t reveal itself to his inspection. Hopefully it wasn’t that important. _Besides, it was better to hope for good things in the morning._

 


End file.
